


The baker street tragedy

by I_Am_Loki_so_bow_down_bitches666



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: All around kinda OOC, Angst, Angst to the max, Character death but not, Daddy Sherlock, F/M, Feels, Ghosts, Jim is some shaman freaky dude as well as a consulting criminal, John's comes back, Lestrade being a dad to Sherlock, M/M, Mary being OOC, Multi, Other, Sebastian is his assistant, Sobbing, because it's cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:33:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Loki_so_bow_down_bitches666/pseuds/I_Am_Loki_so_bow_down_bitches666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn't supposed to happen to John. Not to his brave, adorable, feisty army doctor. Not in a million years had he wanted or expected this. Now he had a screaming infant, an aggravated Mycroft, a worried Mrs Hudson and a frantic Lestrade in his bedroom-all at half past six on a Saturday morning. <br/>..Not that he minded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Read for feels galore. Major character death but John maay return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The baker street tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so don't kill me! I got the idea for this from a picture I will post with this at some point if you want xD John will probably be brought back eventually -after a truck of feels has descended on you all- because it made me sad to write him as dead and Johnlock and bonding with baby Watson needs to happen. Also! I usually consider baby Watson to be Hamish but the reason it isn't will be revealed later OuO So read on and let me know what you think. And thanks to everyone who has read my other stories and commented/kudos. ^.^ I hope you like this too. Updates might be infrequent since I don't get the laptop but I'll try for every week or every two weeks!

"Sherlock?"

The consulting detective sneered, shutting the fridge where he'd been storing his latest experiment. He hadn't been allowed to see his blogger and the boredom was killing him. "Yes, Mycroft? What's so important tha-"

He was interrupted by the soft baritone of his brother's voice.

"It's John." And just like that everything froze.

He could suddenly care less about his experiment or the way Mrs Hudson was screaming for him to come downstairs, even the piercing screech of sirens didn't register. The sirens though snapped him into responding and he scowled.

"What about _my_   John?" There was silence on the other end of the line and the brunette frowned. Mycroft never usually withheld information without a reason. His instinct screamed for him to do something, to hang up and call John because there was no way his John would do something so stupid. So regret-less and so simple yet so complicated. He had the baby (who had been born just over two months ago with her Father's eyes as he had seen) and Mary to think of so why-

"We found him. The top of St.Barts."

The world suddenly seemed very dark, bleak and closed off. He sank to his knees in the middle of the living room as his throat closed up, a choked gasp escaping.

"H-He's okay. He is, he has to be!" He didn't realize he was crying until Lestrade (When had he arrived?) was trying to take the phone and leading him to his armchair. Sherlock struggled and managed to keep hold of the phone just as Mycroft finished speaking.

"He left a note, brother....'You didn't come back to me so I'm coming to you.'." Those eleven words, pierced his heart and he dropped the phone, curling up against John's chair as he sobbed and wailed loudly. His chest felt like it had been pierced and the weapon was being rotated mercilessly in his rib cage and heart. Lestrade didn't try move him, instead he pulled the younger's head into his lap and stroked his curls, murmuring soothingly. All Sherlock could do was cry, fists clenched into his hair as whimpers and choked sobs echoed from him. Only one word or rather a name was clear and it physically pained the detective inspector to hear it. The only word he would say was a litany of "JohnJohnJohnJohn..."

After half an hour his sobs had quietened to whimpers and his wails had subsided slightly. He was making choking noises every so often but his throat was too worn to make other noises. John's name had only just begun to fade from his lips when Mycroft ascended the stairs, umbrella in hand and a medium sized rucksack in the other. He shot Lestrade a grateful look.

"'Lock?" He crouched down, slowly sliding the rucksack over. Red rimmed eyes lifted to look at him before lowering to the floor.

"John." He croaked morosely, in his near catatonic state he recognized his brother wasn't the man he was looking for. Lestrade shook his head to Mycroft and continued the gentle cooing, stroking the brunette's curls still. One of Sherlock's legs had intertwined around the arm chair's, refusing to move away from it despite Greg's efforts to get him somewhere more comfortable.

"Mary has identified the body..." Mycroft murmured, knowing Sherlock would want to hear the information "But she says she's unable to care for Amelia. Her family obviously can't..." His tone suddenly turned harsh "If you don't get yourself off the floor John's child will be going into social care in leas than 12 hours and will of course be adopted straight away." Greg shot Mycroft a horrified look just as Sherlock bolted up. His eyes were wild, hair wilder somehow.

"No. No she isn't." He snapped, sitting up and reaching for his scarf. Inwardly all he wanted to do was curl up in John's armchair, maybe his room and just...allow himself human error. Logically however he knew he had to get to Amelia and Mary in 12 hours or less. He stood by the door, rubbing at his eyes which only made them redder.

"What are we waiting for?" He snapped. Mycroft glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Greg soothingly. "We'll both have to go with you. Lestrade for clearance to the flat and myself to...influence the social workers to hand Amelia to you." Sherlock paused then nodded and left the flat with a sweep of his coat behind him. Lestrade approached Mycroft and scowled

"Why say that to him?" He snapped, hands folding over his chest.

"Because, Gregory. If I hadn't he would be back on heroine and cocaine within the hour. He needs an anchor and either way it is a Watson and I do not mean Mrs Watson. That girl is the last connection to his unrequited love and if it means using the child to save my brother I will. Neither will be unhappy ever again I can assure you." He explained flatly, looking around the flat.

"Have your team move all of John's things into Sherlock's room and convert John's to a nursery although leave the more...rooted things there." He requested, explaining he could pay if need be. Admittedly he felt a pang of deep sadness at John's loss. Although they weren't close he admired the doctor and how much he had helped his brother. Lestrade shook his head and went down to give the orders before getting into the car with Sherlock, Mycroft following shortly after.

* * *

 

"Mrs Watson I'm afraid you have to hand her over-"

"No! Will you fuck off?!" Mary yelled, moving into the flat further. The social worker scowled, features twisting at the 'request'. She was by no means ugly but the way she had twisted her features made her seem it. Her ebony hair was pulled into a messy bun, coffee skin pale and pink painted lips up in a forced smile as she reached for Amelia. The infant was wailing, pudgy fists flailing as her chubby legs kicked unhappily. This woman looked terrifying.

"We have an adoptive parent lined up for her. You said you didn't want her an-"

"No I bloody don't! I cannot be cruel and have her with me while I'm grieving but I won't give her to a faceless stranger!"

Just as she finished speaking a cool voice chimed in, leather gloved hands sweeping into her arms to pick up Amelia.

"I think you'll find I have a rather beautiful face, nor am I a stranger, Mary dear. I'd also like for you to step back, you're scaring my new daughter. "

The blonde woman turned then sighed with relief.

"Oh thank god. You heard then? This mad woman is trying to take Amelia!" She blinked as his comment registered and she suddenly glared, reaching for the blonde baby.

"You're the psycho trying to take my baby!"

Sherlock blinked then frowned. "Don't you recognize me? I'm hurt John didn't talk about me..."

He smiled sadly, cradling the baby who was now trying to swat at his curls. Mary frowned and then looked him over. Curly, dark hair, sharp cheekbones, bright eyes, a cheeky smile (although now he seemed a lot more subdued)...Yes. John had spoken a lot of him...The man he had secretly loved. She wondered if he even knew.

"Sherlock!" She cried, flinging herself at him as she hugged him tightly, tears flowing. Hormones of the pregnancy had almost left her system but emotions were high tonight and all she wanted was to be close to someone who loved the army doctor as much as she had. The brunette nodded, kissing the top of her head soothingly. They barely knew each other but in a way they shared a bond. Both had lost the same person, the one the both held most dear.

"H-he's gone...." She whimpered, smiling tearfully as Amelia burbled to her. He regarded her for a moment before nodding solemnly.

"I know...I miss him too...." Sherlock mumbled, looking away.

"You're the one adopting her?" She asked, half afraid to hear his answer. After a moment he nodded slowly, cooing to the girl in his arms. A little bit away from them the social worker threw up her arms in defeat.

"Now they know each other!" She exclaimed before storming off to get her supervisor who shrugged and directed her to a short man in a suit. After a short 'talk' with Mycroft however she came back, a tremble in her hands as she distributed the forms. The coffee skinned woman then scurried off like a terrified dog.

"I swear to take care of her and you can visit whenever." He had said after signing the papers. She'd merely nodded, placing a soft kiss to Amelia's head with a tearful expression. She then chastely kissed Sherlock's cheer.

"Take care of her. Please." Her voice cracked "A-And tell her about her parents. Not just John either." She joked lamely.

He nodded slowly, frowning in confusion. Behind her he could see Greg loading his patrol car with baby furniture, clothing and the cot. She smiled weakly, taking off a fairly sized golden locket.

"It's cliche." She sniffled, holding the jewelry out with trembling fingers "B-But I want her to have this."

Intrigued, he held Amelia carefully as he opened the locket. His eyes widened in awe as it opened into three separate compartments. Two contained a picture of John and Mary respectfully and then...there was one of him. The picture of John made his heart throb dully then ache as he remembered he would never see that smile again. He closed it with a soft click then sighed.

"H-He wanted her to know you." She explained softly "I did too I suppose."

Warmth bloomed in his chest as she admitted that and he smiled at her. But then with not even a goodbye she turned and began walking away. Sherlock blinked after her then slowly walked to the car. He would've gone after her usually but his less than machine-like self supplied that maybe she needed time to herself and so he gave her just that.

Surprisingly, Amelia didn't fuss or cry on the way to Baker street until she noticed her Mother's absence and even then she only screeched for half an hour at most.Mrs Hudson made him tea and a full meal,not even bothering to add she wasn't his housekeeper as she gently ruffled his curls before heading to bed. He spent most of the night, staring at the infant curled up on his chest, hoping she would open her eyes soon (as selfish and odd as he knew it was) simply so he could see even a hint of John in Baker street again.


End file.
